


But The Pack Survives (CURRENTLY EDITING)

by EnchantressOfWolves



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Consensual Underage Sex, Cousin Incest, Death(s) in the Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Fluff, Family Secrets, Grief/Mourning, Loss of Innocence, Loss of Virginity, Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:44:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EnchantressOfWolves/pseuds/EnchantressOfWolves
Summary: UPDATE 01/15/18: Still editing. I realized I was unfair to Sansa in my first version of this story, so this will hopefully be a lot more enjoyable to read because all the siblings get along!Modern!Westeros. After their family is killed in a car crash, the remaining Stark siblings Sansa, Arya and Bran struggle to cope with the horrible tragedy.Having repressed feelings for each other since they were little kids, Arya and Bran begin an incestual relationship now that their parents aren't there to stop it, and Arya becomes Bran's primary caregiver since he was crippled in the accident. Sansa, though she wasn't in the accident, remains heartbroken over the loss of their family and feels lonelier than ever despite her younger sister and brother's efforts to include her. However, this starts to change when their handsome and brooding cousin Jon Targaryen moves back in with them, as Sansa realizes her long-ago buried feelings for Jon are starting to resurface.Even in the darkest times, the pack must survive, and the Starks know that better than anyone.





	But The Pack Survives (CURRENTLY EDITING)

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The world of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones is not mine. It belongs to George R.R. Martin and David Benioff and D.B. Weiss respectively.
> 
> So in case you're wondering, which I'm sure you are, I decided to write this story because I at last caved into my guilty pleasure. I had read a story a while back with this pairing and I couldn't get it out of my head no matter how hard I tried, so I've come to the conclusion that I MUST write an Arya/Bran story. This particular brand of Starkcest has secretly been my guilty pleasure ever since the bow and arrow scene in season 1 where Bran went chasing after Arya when she outshot him. So I hope you enjoy this! 
> 
> Note: The characters look like the actors who portray them in the show, but with the hair and eye colors described in the books because I like accuracy. I know Arya is fine because her actress fits her book description, but Bran is not so I wrote him with his book-canon coloring.

**Updated on 09/12/17 at 12:50AM. 

Please don't flame me for the incest pairings, because GoT is full of them so... XD

* * *

**Updated on 01/15/18 at 11:43AM.

Please don't flame me for the incest pairings, because GoT is full of them so... XD

The Starks were devastated. It had been one week since the car accident and neither their parents, nor Robb, nor Rickon, were ever coming home. Bran was the only one who had survived the wreck but he’d been told that he would never walk again. It was a small price to pay, however, as he knew he’d been fortunate enough to escape with his life; a luxury not afforded to his parents or brothers.

The service for their family was dismal and lots of tears had been shed, and then the four dead Starks had been carried off to the crypts below the sept, and he’d known he would never see them again. Now he was at home with his sisters Sansa and Arya and everywhere he looked, he was reminded of how their house had used to be so full of the laughter of seven Starks, and now all it had was the crying of three. Their house had used to be so happy, and now everything was sad, and a part of him was scared to even go through the bedrooms and belongings of his deceased family members because he wanted everything to remain as it was — he thought, perhaps, if their things remained in order, it would feel as if they were still there. Though he knew it would never feel that way. They were gone forever, and now all he had were his memories, including the ones right up to the moment the other car struck them.

It wasn’t fair that one minute he was joking around with his brothers, and the next both of them were dead. He couldn’t believe that he’d never again be able to ask his beloved parents for advice — and while he’d assumed the role of ‘man of the house’ and tried to be strong for his sisters, the truth was, it was taking all he had not to break down in tears himself.

However, he knew that he had to count his blessings. For one, their cousin Jon Targaryen was coming back home to live with them. He’d always gotten on well with his cousin, and it would be nice to have another man in the house again. He was also obviously grateful for his life, but the best thing that had happened to him since the whole ordeal was how attentive his sister Arya had been towards him.

In fact, she’d hardly left him alone and would get teary-eyed every time she looked at his wheelchair. He hated seeing her so upset, but he couldn’t deny that her taking care of him was great. For ever since he’d been a little boy, he’d been harboring a secret, a secret that he suspected she knew but he wasn’t sure.

Brandon Stark was in love with his sister, and he desperately hoped that her taking care of him was a sign she shared his feelings. Ever since that night ten years before, when she was eight and he was seven, and she’d snuck into his bedroom while everyone else was sleeping so they could show each other their private parts because they’d both been curious children, he’d loved her as more than a sibling. Though he’d been little, the image of her lifting her nightgown for him had never escaped his memory. And now, even as he’d grown older, his feelings had never faded. Despite everyone saying Sansa was the most beautiful of his sisters, he found himself content staring at Arya for hours and had decided she was equally beautiful, if not more. She’d grown up as he had and as a result, he'd become increasingly curious about her body.

However, while he often fantasized about holding her perfect little breasts in his hands, his attraction wasn’t just a physical one. They had always been close as children; one year and they could’ve been twins, and he’d confided some of his deepest hopes, dreams and fears to her, as she had done to him. Not to mention all the times when they were little and one of them would be scared or upset and crawl into the other’s bed at night. Their parents had used to think it was cute and innocent, but for him, it was real. He knew that she was strong-willed and wise beyond her years, and he especially loved her quick wit and sarcasm. He also knew that behind her tough-girl facade, she was very sweet but horribly insecure, and wanted nothing more than to feel safe and loved.

Before this accident had happened, he was the only one she’d let see her cry, but now she seemed so broken, and tired, that tears were ready to spill from her eyes at any moment — in front of anyone. He wished he could hold her and tell her that everything would be okay, but he wasn’t sure of that himself. Gods, he loved her dearly, and he’d known for a very long time if she ever reciprocated his affections, he’d be the happiest man in Westeros. While incest had been viewed as a vile sin by both the Old Gods and the Seven for centuries, it had never been illegal by the crown (as the Targaryen dynasty had practiced it for as long as anyone could remember), and the current parliament hadn’t actually outlawed it either. It was only unacceptable in the septs, and he was grateful for that.

He didn’t know how much longer he could wait to find out if she felt the same way, especially after the accident when his life had literally flashed before his eyes and he'd realized how quickly it could’ve been cut short, so he decided that he would just risk it and tell her how he felt. Nothing could be worse than holding his feelings inside forever, right?

Right. So on this cool autumn morning, as he lay awake in his bed waiting for someone to help him get ready for the day, he went over what he would say to her when she came into his room.

It would be best just to tell her, he knew, and hope that she would feel the same way and not slap him for being so inappropriate. He let the words roll off his tongue, over and over, but it just didn’t feel right. So he decided to wing it.

Then sure enough, there was a soft knock on his door, and as it slowly creaked open to reveal his favorite sister, he smiled wide while also feeling his stomach drop.

She looked beautiful but sad, with her face tear-stained and a smile that didn’t quite reach her misty grey eyes. She was wearing a loose-fitting, light grey t-shirt-dress with dark blue tights and her shoulder-length brown hair was still damp from the shower.

“Hello, Arya,” he said, trying and failing to prop himself up.

“How do you feel?” she asked, walking over and sitting beside him on the bed. She planted a soft kiss on his forehead and he suddenly felt as if a thousand little bugs were flying around inside his stomach.

“Better now,” he answered, truthfully.

Of course, Arya looked confused by this, but before she could say anything, he continued, “I have to tell you something. I’m sure you’ll be angry and disgusted with me when I say this, but I can’t hold it in anymore. I’ve got to tell you how I feel.”

“How do you feel, Bran?” She sounded calm, but there was a hint of concern in her voice. Her expression was soft, loving even, and he hoped that this whole thing wouldn’t backfire on him.

“I feel that I love you as more than my sister. Like truly, romantically love you. You’re the one person I've always been able to talk to, and I like to think I'm that same person for you — well at least since Jon left for the Wall. Neither of us had many friends, and I’d always loved doing things with you. Then you got a boyfriend and even though it only lasted a few months I hated him, but then it got even worse with your other boyfriend because you were together for a year and I hated him even more because I wished it could be me who was holding and kissing you. I still remember that time ten years ago, when we were curious little kids who didn’t know any better, and I pulled down my pants and showed you my — you know, and you lifted your nightgown and let me see your — "

But before he could finish, Arya’s lips were pressed against his. Seeming to realize what she had done, she quickly broke the kiss, but she was smiling at him and he knew by her expression that he’d made the right choice in admitting his love for her. She did share his affections.

“I thought I was the only one who remembered that,” she said.

“You thought wrong,” Bran chuckled quietly.

“Yours was the first and only cock I’ve ever touched, you know,” Arya told him, a ghost of a smile dancing across her lips.

“Really? What about Ned Dayne? Or Gendry?”

“I never got past kissing them… it...it didn’t feel right,” she admitted, blushing.

“But that time with us, I know we didn’t do anything but… did it feel right?” Bran’s heart was beating rapidly inside his chest; he had to know.

His sister looked really embarrassed now, and she checked to make sure that Sansa wasn’t watching or listening through the crack in the door. When she determined that the coast was clear, she whispered ever so softly, “Yes.”

Bran’s eyes widened. “You’re still a virgin?” He grinned, excitement rushing through his body like an electric shock. "I thought you’d at least done it with Gendry."

“I wanted to,” replied Arya, “really, I did — I was so sure that I loved him, that we’d end up together, but every time we tried to get intimate I couldn’t go through with it. I never realized until the other night when I was waiting to find out if you’d live or die, that it was because I was really in love with you, my own brother. Well, deep down I knew, I’ve always known, but I’d repressed it for so long that I wasn’t even aware of it until I was crying over you in the hospital. I didn’t say anything because, you know, we’re not supposed to feel this way. So I resorted to simply taking care of you the best I could, hoping maybe you’d get the hint.”

“I got the hint,” he explained, reaching for her hand. “And who says we’re not supposed to feel this way?”

“The gods, everyone — our last name isn’t Targaryen, after all,” said Arya matter-of-factly.

“But who really cares?” Bran demanded, kissing her hand as he held it in his own and smiling at how soft and sweet her skin was. “We’re not hurting anyone, and I won’t let society’s stupid expectations stop me from loving you this way."

“Sansa’s going to have a heart attack,” Arya whispered, a wily gleam in her eyes.

“I know, but eventually she will understand,” said Bran.

“You’re right.” Arya nodded. “Here,” she said after a moment’s pause, "it’s nearly nine-thirty, I’ll help you get dressed so we can go have breakfast.” She smiled softly at him and stood up from his bed.

She then went over and grabbed a white and grey Direwolves Rugby sweatshirt along with a pair of ivory colored pants out of his closet, and after about ten minutes, she had him dressed and back in his wheelchair.

“Thanks.” He grinned mischievously and pulled her into his lap so he could kiss her again.

“Here,” she giggled, “you need your glasses, don’t you?” She stared lovingly into his sea blue eyes for a moment before reaching for his dark blue-rimmed glasses and then setting them on his face.

“Thanks, now I can see you better,” he chuckled.

“Of course,” Arya replied, smiling. She kissed his forehead again and ran a hand through his short but unruly red hair. “So you really want to do this?” she questioned softly. “To go against everything we’ve ever been taught was right and wrong and turn to, to — incest?"

“Of course I do,” said Bran, as his emotions rose suddenly to the surface, “it’s all I’ve ever wanted — you’re all I’ve ever wanted. When Dad’s car collided with the other car and my life literally flashed before my eyes, all I saw was your face — your beautiful face — and I hated myself for never telling you how I felt because I was so sure I was going to die. I just wanted to see you one last time, and I was fortunate enough to open my eyes again, and there you were holding my hand.”

He smiled at her with tears in his eyes, happy he’d finally told her how he felt. “I love you so much, Arya,” he whispered, "I always have. I don’t care what everyone says about incest — I love you because you’re beautiful and kind and everything that’s right with this world.”

By now, she was crying too, and she gently rubbed his hand. “I love you too, Bran,” she said. “I was so scared at the hospital. I knew Dad and Mum and Robb and Rickon were gone already, but you weren’t — you had a fighting chance, and I’d never prayed so hard for anything in my life. But then you pulled through because you’re so strong, and you’re still being so strong for us — you’re so brave, and smart and kind. You were the one in the car, the one who’s now in a wheelchair, the one who has nightmares every night because you saw our family die, but you’re still putting us before yourself. I know you have it the worst of all of us, but you’re going out of your way to make sure we’re okay.”

“Of course I am,” Bran told her quietly. “You and Sansa are the only family I have now, and I hate seeing my sweet sisters so sad.”

“I know, and that’s why you’re so wonderful,” Arya replied, kissing him. “And I want to do the same for you — I know I can’t replace Mum, but I promise I will love and care for you.”

Bran smiled at her. “Thanks,” he said. “And I know I can’t replace Dad, but I will love you and keep you safe. I promise.”

“I know you will,” Arya whispered, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Bran managed a weak grin. “Gods, I miss them,” he said.

“Yeah, I miss them too,” said Arya, her bottom lip shaking, “I don’t understand — why do bad things happen to good people?"

“I don’t know,” answered Bran, “but it sucks.”

“Yeah,” replied Arya, “it does.”

“This world is a cruel place, but I think the gods must have some sort of plan for us,” he whispered, rubbing her back.

“If they even exist,” Arya mumbled. “Sometimes I wonder if there are any gods at all, or if there’s just death — death and misery."

“You don’t mean that,” Bran whispered, saddened at how broken she sounded. He held her tighter and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “They’re up there, all of them. You know how I know that?”

“How?”

“I’m here. They could’ve let me die, but they kept me alive. I know they did it so I could be here for you and Sansa, but especially you.” Arya’s gaze fell to her lap.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean — “

“It’s okay,” Bran interrupted, managing a weak smile. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her more. “I know it’s hard to keep your faith when something so terrible has happened. Trust me, I almost lost mine too, but then I remembered that I’m still here and I’ve got my beautiful sister taking care of me, and that counts for something.” He kissed her again, and she smiled too.

“I will always take care of you,” she whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said, grinning and giving her another kiss. She snuggled back into him and he rested his head against hers.

Both of them were quiet for a moment, and Bran took this opportunity to gently stroke his sister’s hair. He breathed in deeply, grinning at how sweet she smelled and knowing that this was exactly what he’d always wanted.

Suddenly, however, Arya raised her head and looked at him. “Did you sleep well last night?” she asked. “Like, are you still having the same bad dream?"

“Yeah, I am,” Bran admitted, hanging his head. “It’s horrible. I’m in the car, Rickon is in the middle and Robb is by the opposite window. We’re talking shit about the Lions after they beat the Direwolves last Saturday and then suddenly, there’s this blinding flash of light and Dad curses and Mum screams, and I look up and there’s a car coming straight for us with no time to get out of the way. There’s a sickening crunch, and then I wake up in my room but I can barely feel my legs and I know it was real.”

Hearing this, Arya sniffled. “I’m sorry you have to go through that every night,” she said.

“Yeah, me too,” said Bran softly, kissing away her tears. “But eventually it will go away.”

“I hope so.” Arya stared lovingly into his eyes. “Thanks for not dying,” she whispered with a soft smile. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had.”

“I know, but let’s not think about that,” murmured Bran, kissing her hand again. “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled at him. “You better not,” she whispered, and he grinned.

Then, after a pause, she asked, "Do you think Mum and Dad would be angry we’re doing this?”

“Well I don’t think they’d like it very much if they were still here,” Bran admitted, “but I think they’d eventually come to understand it and I don’t think they’d love us any less because of it.”

“Okay, good,” said Arya, burying her face in his soft sweatshirt, “because I need you.”

“Same.” He grinned. "I know it’s hard,” he whispered, “but we’ll get through this together — you, me, Sansa and Jon. Yeah?"

“Yeah.” She looked a lot calmer now, and her eyes were dry.

Bran gently rubbed his nose against hers and then kissed it, making her giggle. “I hate seeing my sweet sister so sad, you know I’d do anything to put that beautiful smile back on your face,” he said.

“I know.” Arya smiled and started playing with the strings on his hoodie.

He grinned and gave her one last kiss. He couldn’t believe how fortunate he was that she shared his feelings and that he was really holding her in his lap right then. If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up, but the best part was that he knew this was real. Realizing how close she was to him, his beautiful, sweet sister whom he’d wanted for so long, he began to feel his pants growing tighter and to his horror, she seemed to feel his erection too. But instead of being weirded out, she looked downright shocked.

“Yeah,” he said, smirking at his sister’s surprise, “it still works.”

“I — “ Arya looked embarrassed. “I wasn’t sure if you could still, you know — after the accident — “ But when he continued to nod at her, she stopped and a huge smile graced her lips. “So — can you feel this?” she questioned, standing up and gently rubbing the bulge in his pants.

Bran smiled at her. “Yeah I can feel that,” he answered. "I was really fortunate. I lost a little feeling but not too much, I can still get hard normally and I was rubbing it last night and it stayed up as long as I did that; I was even able to cu—“ But before he could finish, she was back in his lap, kissing him again.

She kissed him for a good minute before breaking away. “Okay, we have to stop,” she said, breathless but smiling. “As much as I’d love to see what that cock of yours can do, I don’t want Sansa to find out like this, she’s already struggling to cope with the accident and walking in on us would really put her over the edge.”

“Since when did you care about Sansa’s feelings?” Bran raised an eyebrow.

“We’re alright now; we had a heart-to-heart in the hospital waiting room, she apologized for everything mean she’s ever said to me and said we can’t fight anymore because we only have each other now, and besides, we knew the extra stress wouldn’t be good for you, so then I apologized for always teasing her and we made up,” Arya explained.

Bran nodded. “Good, it’s about time you two started acting like sisters,” he chuckled quietly. “We can tell her later, together.”

“Okay.”

“So — breakfast?”

“Oh, yeah — right.” Arya smiled and tousled his hair. “I’m going to take care of you now, so whatever you need, I’ll be right here,” she said. “You’re more than my brother, you have always been more than my brother.”

Unable to stop the huge grin that spread across his face, Bran said, “And like I said, you’ve always been more than my sister — my beautiful sister.”

He beckoned her in for one last kiss and she happily obliged. “Hey, you want to go for a ride with me?” he asked.

“To where?” she giggled.

Bran grinned. “I may not be able to walk or run or climb anymore, but this wheelchair is damn good fun,” he said, pushing off into the hallway with her in his lap. As they rolled towards the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think of how fortunate he was. He’d survived the accident, he still had both of his sisters and his cousin, and now, as seemingly sinful as it was, his most beloved sister was willing to throw society’s expectations out the window to be with him. His brothers were gone, but he still had the one sibling he’d always considered his best friend — and now she was more than that.

In spite of everything, he couldn’t help but smile.

 

 


End file.
